The Old Franciscan Missions Of California eBook

In 1774, the separation of the Mission from the presidio
was decided upon, in order to remove the neophytes
from the evil influences of the soldiers. The
site chosen was six miles up the valley (named Nipaguay
by the Indians), and so well did all work together
that by the end of the year a dwelling, a storehouse,
a smithy built of adobes, and a wooden church eighteen
by fifty-seven feet, and roofed with tiles, were completed.
Already the work of the padres had accomplished much.
Seventy-six neophytes rejoiced their religious hearts,
and the herds had increased to 40 cattle, 64 sheep,
55 goats, 19 hogs, 2 jacks, 2 burros, 17 mares, 3
foals, 9 horses, 22 mules,—­233 animals in
all.

The presidio remained at Cosoy (now old San Diego),
and four thousand adobes that had been made for the
Mission buildings were turned over to the military.
A rude stockade was erected, with two bronze cannon,
one mounted towards the harbor, the other towards
the Indian rancheria.

The experiments in grain raising at first were not
successful. The seed was sown in the river bottom
and the crop was destroyed by the unexpected rising
of the river. The following year it was sown so
far from water that it died from drought. In
the fall of 1775 all seemed to be bright with hope.
New buildings had been erected, a well dug, and more
land made ready for sowing. The Indians were showing
greater willingness to submit themselves to the priests,
when a conflict occurred that revealed to the padres
what they might have to contend with in their future
efforts towards the Christianizing of the natives.
The day before the feast of St. Francis (October 4,
1775), Padres Jayme and Fuster were made happy by
being required to baptize sixty new converts.
Yet a few days later they were saddened by the fact
that two of these newly baptized fled from the Mission
and escaped to the mountains, there to stir up enmity
and revolt. For nearly a month they moved about,
fanning the fires of hatred against the “long
gowns,” until on the night of November 4 (1775)
nearly eight hundred naked savages, after dusk, stealthily
advanced and surrounded the Mission, where the inmates
slept unguarded, so certain were they of their security.
Part of the force went on to the presidio, where,
in the absence of the commander, the laxity of discipline
was such that no sentinel was on guard.

An hour after midnight the whole of the Mission was
surrounded. The quarters of the Christianized
Indians were invaded, and they were threatened with
instantaneous death if they gave the alarm. The
church was broken into, and all the vestments and
sacred vessels stolen. Then the buildings were
fired. Not until then did the inmates know of
their danger. Imagine their horror, to wake up
and find the building on fire and themselves surrounded
by what, in their dazed condition, seemed countless
hordes of savages, all howling, yelling, brandishing
war-clubs, firing their arrows,—­the scene
made doubly fearful by the red glare of the flames.